"Hey, I just call 'em like I see 'em," Mason responded to the insult though he didn't take it to heart. Honestly, he was being kind of a dick but that was sort of who he was. And it was a good way to get the measure of someone. Besides, he'd thought it once and he was sure he'd think it again: he could definitely take this guy in a fight.
He huffed out a breath. "Saw some guy pushing up on a woman who clearly wasn't interested. He wasn't taking no for an answer, was getting touchy. No one else was doing anything so I did. Stopped him. When a little power action kicked in, instead of saying thank you like a normal person, she freaked out and the bartender called the cops. She ID'd me."
He went back to fiddling with his bracelet, stopping only when Tony gave him a warning. "Yeah, it zapped me once. Still think I can get it off. Besides," he glanced up and offered his doppelganger a grin that was nothing short of roguish, "I feel like saying 'you can never get this off and it's tamper-proof' is like setting down a challenge, don't you?"
He'd noticed that Tony didn't have one. Not many people seemed to. He wondered if that made him a special case, one way or another.
"You can have three guesses," Mason said, "but you'll only need one." So they shared a birthday. On the surface, he was seemingly pretty calm about the whole thing, but that was an illusion - just not a power-induced one. Internally he was freaking out: did he have a brother? A twin, none the less? Not quite identical, he thought, they looked different to his eyes but similar enough that they could be almost carbon copies of each other. Shit. Did that mean that his birth mother had only given him up? Or had they both been given up?
He pushed his hand through his hair, knowing that his lack of true response to the question gave the answer away.